Broken
by I-am-Divergent-22
Summary: "But, Miss Dellfold," said Snow, smiling, "it's my job to make sure that every failing Gamemaker dies broken." It was supposed to just be an ordinary Hunger Games. But now every tributes' loved ones were at stake. Rave had to make sure her sister wasn't dead every day. Otherwise she might end up killing herself. The 61st Hunger Games. SYOT open.


I sit in my room, waiting for Rave to come. My sister, Rave. She came in four years ago, pale and shaking. I couldn't speak. I wouldn't speak. I still had the ability, but I wouldn't speak ever. Not even when I'm alone. Because I know they have a camera somewhere in this room, observing me, waiting for the day I speak for the first time in 20 years. I haven't spoken since I was 2 years old.

Words always felt different on my mouth. When I first uttered my mother's name, it felt strange. It felt wrong. Since that day, I've refused to speak. Only Rave heard me, but she knows I hate the Capitol, and would rather not be allowed freedom to wander around. No.

Four years ago, when Rave came to me, pale and shaking, trembling and cold, she blurted out what had happened. "I've just been made Head Gamemaker," she said. And then she broke down, crying into my shoulder. I'd wanted to comfort her. To smooth her back and murmur comforting words to her. But I couldn't. Instead, I just rubbed her back soothingly.

My words, my words woven by my hands, have comforted her, made her a successful Head Gamemaker. That is all I can do. Sometimes, Rave tells me I could pass as the Head Gamemaker, but I shook my head no. No one could understand me, I'd said.

So instead, as Rave walks in to visit me today, she engulfs me in a hug and shoves something in my hand. It's a tiny camera feed. It looks down into an office. A man with salt-and-pepper hair works at a desk scattered with papers and books. President Snow. I'd know that face anywhere.

He once came to visit me. He asked me if I could speak just one little word, for him. He even told me that the cameras spying on me had been turned off. And he told me that he'd lie to the guards about me speaking. Something about the way he talked made me trust him. He asked me if I could speak.

So, I breathed in his ear, "Yes," and he smiled at me. He still wasn't married. The way he looked at me, I could tell his face was a look of longing. But I couldn't do or say anything. I looked away, and he left the room.

It had been the time of the 44th Hunger Games. He'd been President since the 31st Games, only at 16 years old.

And the look he gave me still haunts me today.

Today, Rave looks at me nervously, and I know she's in trouble. She needs an idea. For the Games. I've been formulating a plan for weeks. So I tell her when she asks me, weaving my hands through the air, telling her exactly what she should do.

When President Snow finds out that I've helped her, which I have no doubt he will, he won't punish me. Instead, he'll take me as his wife. I have no desire to do this. I never have. He'll force me to speak. My reputation as a mute will be forgotten. I'll be his wife, bear him children. Speak in public, give speeches about why the Hunger Games are important, instilling new laws into the people of Panem. He loves me, though I haven't the slightest idea why.

When Rave leaves, I sit by my window, watching a bird make its nest. So free. No danger. I wish I was a bird. I could fly away from this all.

If only I had the chance.

Instead, I watch the video feed. Rave has entered his office, closed the door, and sat down.

"So…Miss Dellfold. You are here to present your idea for the arena. The 61st Hunger Games. Start."

Rave flaps her mouth open, but nothing comes out. She can't have forgotten my idea. She is starting to sweat, something I don't think can happen. She'd had her sweat glands removed years ago. It probably hadn't been the smartest choice.

"Well, this idea, you see…it involves…the arena, well…" she sighs, looking as she's trying to find a way to describe it.

Snow taps his fingers impatiently.

"The arena is…a plateau full of tropical foliage and animals, leading to steep white stone cliffs that end in cold salt water. Falls are commonly deadly. Temperatures range from 60 degrees to 90 degrees. Several small pools atop the plateau provide water." she blurts out.

Snow looks stunned for a moment. He glances at the ceiling where I am looking down, flickeringly smiles, then turns back to Rave. "Say that again, slowly." Rave repeats it, and Snow smiles.

"Well done." he says. "But I only hope that your sister can live another year." the smile is wiped off of Rave's face.

"You haven't killed her?"

"No." said Snow, shaking his head vigorously. He couldn't, because he loves me. "Not yet."

"Please," she blurts out again. "Don't kill her. She's my only family."

Snow smiled. "But Miss Dellfold," he said, "I take care to make sure that every failing Head Gamemaker dies broken." He gave her a wide smile. "Now leave my office."

Rave leaves. Snow looks up at the ceiling, winks, and laughs a humorless laugh. He knows I am watching. And he is sending me a message. I'll be married by the end of the year.

**A/N: Hello, fan-ficers! This is just a normal Games. Maybe. I hope you liked the prologue.**

**You may submit only one tribute. And original tributes, not recycled ones.**

**I don't think it'll be a first come, first serve, exactly. That's why I'm not posting the list in my profile. Just submit, and I'll tell you who gets it. If my spots are filled, I'll post the list, but if not, an author can choose to submit another.**

**The form is on my profile.**


End file.
